Disposable
by The Smiling Shadow
Summary: A Rebel believes she has found the love or her life in the form of a former Agent named Smith. But somethings are not meant to be. Smith is the negative, and doesn't feel love, no matter how much he says he does.


"I should get dressed…" He protested.

"No, stay with me." She grabbed his arm, and smiled.

"I can't stay long."

"Then let me come with you."

He frowned, and turned to her, looking at her, all covered in the sheets.

"I can't do that either." He said.

She frowned, looking away, but he knelt down next to her, pulling her hair back, and kissing her neck like he always did. He knew how good it made her feel, how good it made him feel. And she pulled him down back to the bed, where he held her. He held her, and her beauty, sliding his hands down her, touching her. Kissing her neck to her lips, just like she liked it.

And he got on top of her, where he could look at her, wrapping her face in his hands, and just looking at her.

"I really need to get dressed." He protested again.

She kissed him one more time.

"Fine. You look sexy in that suit anyway."

And he smiled.

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She was laughing as she flew out the door, running from him and his hands that tickled her. She ran into the wall, smiling at him, as he followed her at a slowly pace, grinning and holding his hands behind his back.

They left what they had claimed their room, the broken room with a small little bed in the corner, in their broken apartment building, forgotten by the rest of the world. They had claimed it, and made it theirs. Their decaying hallways, with holes, and peeling green paint. Their empty rooms, full of layers of dust. It was all theirs. It was their world, their world.

And no Agent, Rebel, or Copy could ever find them. No one could.

"That was nice." She smiled.

"I know." He nodded, putting his tie back on.

She laughed, grabbing his tie, and finishing it for him.

"Hey, give them." He told her.

"What?"

"You know. Give them to me."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He grinned, and picked her up by her hips, and she screamed and laughed.

"Give them!" He laughed.

"Okay! Okay!" She pulled out a pair of sunglasses.

"Thank you!" He said, grabbing them.

She hugged him, and they stood together in their hallway.

"I don't like it when you wear those." She told him.

"I know."

And he pushes her face into his chest to keep her safe. Keep her blind of the truth, keep her safe of who he is. The battle his life has become. He kept her from the Agents that chased him, and The One who was out to kill him. He kept her away from the open, where all could see her. He kept her a secret, and she kept him hers. He kept her from everything. And told her how much he loved her, how much she meant, the only good thing in his life.

And he begins to rock her, holding her, and not letting go. He knew she didn't want to be let go. She didn't want to be left again, left so that he may run and kill again and again.

"I love you, Smith." She whispered.

"I love you too, sweetheart." He kisses her forehead.

"Do you have to go?" She held him tighter.

He didn't answer her, he just held her. But she had to close her eyes as she felt a gun being pressed on her head as she held him. She frowned.

How could you love him? She asked herself, feeling the Desert Eagle Gun.

How could you love him after all he's done. He doesn't deserve such a thing as it, he didn't even understand it…accept it. How could you? How could you love him? Look at him, that program you were taught to run from. That program that killed your crewmates. How could you love him? How could you go to him each night, just because he asked? How could you love him?

How could he love you?

She remembers what happened, it replays in her mind. Over and over again. She watched him kill them, her crewmates years ago. And somehow she finds herself running through the Matrix from what she thought was an Agent. But she just ran into his copies, and where he grabbed her by the arms, and hurt her, and yelled at her, and asked her why. The way he looked at her…

Those blue eyes pleading at her.

Why couldn't he kill her?

Her wrists were bruised from his grasp, and she began to cry. And that is when he didn't understand, he just knelt down to her, and held her. He held her, and told her to stop, and she did.

How could he?

She doesn't understand, she doesn't question it. He loves her, that's all she needs to think about. That's all she wants to think about.

And he asked her again, why, why, why, but she could never give him an answer. Why did he smile at her? Why did he feel so different with her? Why did it feel so good to hold her? Why, why couldn't he kill her?

So they met again and again, sometimes alone, sometimes with his copies staring at them. They met at the night, where no one would bother them, they would blend into the shadows with the black they wore. Where they would discuss what was happening and why.

Where she learned who he was, and the pain he had been through. And all that just seem to redeem him for the deaths he had caused. The way he looked when he spoke of such things. The way he'd just look away, and those blue eyes would glisten in the moonlight.

And that is when she grabbed his hand, and laid her head on his shoulder.

That is where it began.

That is when he pulled her closer, and told her didn't know what was happening to him, or what he was doing. When he pulled her closer, and wouldn't let go, telling her, asking her to teach him.

That is when she decided to teach him. To take him on every step, and tell him how to show this love he felt. Taught him how to kiss, and how to hold, and how to touch.

Even now she pleads to him to stop, stay with her and never return to those copies of his. Stop searching for her messiah, give up this battle, leave the war. Everyone thought he was dead, couldn't they use that to their advantage. He simply said no, and spoke of it never again.

So she put it in the back of her mind, and just allowed him to love her.

And now he wipes the hair out of her eyes, and kisses her on the forehead. He pulls them to the wall, not letting her go, just a moment longer, just a moment longer and he'll let go, he'll leave her, only to meet again, to have her be the only thing he'll keep alive when the world is his.

But something is wrong.

She can feel it as he holds her. She can feel it, as she listens to his virtual heart beat beside his gun. She can feel it with every breath they share and every moment they are together. She can feel it, as he grabs her by the arms, tighter and tighter.

"What's wrong?" She looked up at him.

And for a moment there was no expression on his face, he just stared off into the void. And then he smiled.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm afraid our time is up." He told her.

"Smith…We can see each other again, next week." She told him.

"No, my love, there won't be anymore weeks for us."

"What…What are you talking about?"

"You see, you have served your purpose, now it is time for you to be deleted." He smiled.

"Smith!?" She screamed.

He grabbed her wrists like he did long ago, holding them tight, as if he was trying to shatter the bones beneath. And slowly with his other hand he put on his sunglasses, and turned to her.

"You're hurting me!" She screamed.

"Ah, the look of fear is almost as pleasing as the love we just made." Smith grinned.

She looked up at him with tears beginning to form. And he hits her.

"It is even enhanced because it's all coming together now isn't it? All at once betrayal comes to your mind. Oh, the look on your face, I haven't seen it in so long." Smith continues.

"What are you talking about!?" She cries.

And then his mouth opens, and he backs away, as she is left to slide to the floor, her wrists almost bleeding. She doesn't understand. It's all flashing in front or her eyes, the months they've spent together. How could he do this, after all that? All the times they met here, and made love, all those times he kissed her, and whispered to her. She denied what was happening to her. She shook her head, and didn't even look at him.

This wasn't happening, he still loved her. He would never do this her. Anyone but her.

And he looked at her, shocked for a moment, before smiling.

"You really thought I loved you, didn't you?" He asked.

"You love me!" She yelled at him.

And he laughed.

"Your kind is more pathetic than I thought." He knelt down to her.

She cried and looked away, before he lifted her head by her chin to make her look at her. She knew she should run, she knew she should try. But she also knew she wouldn't make it, and some part of her still wanted to stay with him. He was going to shelter her from anything now, he was not going to shelter her from the truth.

"You wanted to teach me love, that wonderful feeling that gives you meaning in sex. You wanted to teach me love, when in fact I have taught you love." He told her.

No, no, no, no, no, no, you love me. You love me.

"Smith…"

"Love is nothing, sweetheart. Love is an illusion created by your inferior brains to give you a meaning, a purpose, a reason to breed with whomever you choose to mate. Love is a lie created to give pleasure during your breeding processes, to ensure you breed and prolong the survival of your species." He told her, smiling.

He scanned her face, her emotions, her lies created by her mind running through her eyes. Such pain he had caused her, and it felt so good. He could see it, she was in denial. She didn't want to accept it, she wanted to take the blue pill. She wanted to wake up from this nightmare. But it was no nightmare. It was real. He had lied to her, he had violated her for nothing. It all meant nothing.

Every kiss, every touch, every moment, every breath. Everything they had ever done. Nothing.

So much pain, and still he smiled.

"I love you…" She pleaded.

"Why would I waste my time on you, sweetheart? Why would I waste myself on such an insipid thing as love?" He asked.

"I love you…" She repeated again. "How…how could you?"

"What? How could I do it? How could I fool you into loving me? _Me? _Agent Smith? Well, I observe. I watch your kind frolic in your own filth. It's so disgusting. I watch you kiss, and I watch you say you love each other, and fool each other. I watch Mr. Anderson and his female, and I mimic their movements, their words. Sweetheart, baby girl, honey, baby cakes, my love. I act so helpless and confused, just so you can come to my rescue, you can show me how to be better." He said, rather proudly.

"How could you…?" She asked again.

"Oh, I see what you are asking."

Smith smiled, sitting down on the floor with her.

"Because, no matter how much I hate, how repulsive and sickening it is, I have pleasure with you, with your species, you females, women. It is your purpose after all. To breed the next generation, thankfully we are able to take pleasure from such an act. It's really actually disgusting, but it is just so…satisfying." He grins. "Almost as much as watching your kind die."

"But…but…You just used me?"

"Do not feel horrible, my love. You are just one in many, the latest in the many women that I have taken under my power."

She looked at him, and couldn't breathe. She just fell to the floor, completely flat on her face, trying to remember how to breathe. Trying to forget the pain, trying to pretend this wasn't happening.

You love me, you love me, you love me, you love me. I am the only one you love, the only one, the only one.

And Smith grabbed her by the shoulders, and lifted her up.

"There are just so many of you, you are almost disposable. And once I have used one up, I retrieve another. Once one purpose is served, another is given to replace them." He gestures with his hands.

"No…You love me. I love you, Smith. I love you so much."

"I will tell you though, you have been the best I have had yet. You know exactly how to touch me, how to render me weak, and bring me to my knees. Not even your Messiah can do that. But you have served your purpose, all I can do now is hope that your replacement will be as useful as you have been."

And then he lets her go to lean on the wall for support, as he rises to his feet. She is paralyzed in her own despair, she can't move or think. It just replays in her mind, everything they ever did together. It all seemed so wonderful then.

"I love you… I love you." She repeated.

"Yes, sweetheart, I know. Your species depends so desperately on love. And if I didn't know you would run away, if I didn't know you would go to your Messiah and his woman, Mr. Anderson and his mate, I would allow you to live."

He lied to her, and used her for nothing but his own pleasure. It was all just a big lie. It was all just him, sucking the life out of everything. A virus that had infected her, just as he had the Matrix. A lie like the Matrix.

And she believed him.

She believed him like she believed in the day and the night. She believed that there was something, that there was purpose in his words. She really did, she really did, and she wanted to still. She believed him, she really did. All his lies. Agent Smith, she fell in love with Agent Smith. But he didn't fall with her, he grew wings and flew away.

"I love you."

"Goodbye, sweetheart."

She watches as her love grabs the gun she has feared for so long, and watches him put it to her head. And she cries, and looks up at where his blue eyes should be. But she only sees two black lenses, with her reflections. And she watches as she dies.

"Are you done yet?"

Smith turns, putting his gun back, and sees three copies waiting for him at the end of the hallway.

"Did you have fun?" They smile.

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Let us all accept it. Smith is the negative, the dark, the evil. And no fangirl would be able to change him without misbalancing the entire equation. I know you don't want to hear it, but it's true.

I'm sorry.


End file.
